The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Almost. You need to roll the ‘L’.” No matter how many times Counter says it, it doesn’t make any more sense to me. Roll an ‘L’? Down a hill? Mina makes the sound several times in a row just to mock me. I swear it’s not real. “Hm. She understands it. So it’s not generic. Maybe you should try learning Japanese instead. No ‘L’s in that, right?”

I narrow my eyes with a huff “Now you’re just being mean. And racist.”

“Actually, Aurora?” Mina smiles, and leans across the couch to give me a little peck on the cheek. “She’s right. No ‘L’s in the entire language. Sorry. Try harder the next time you want a reason to pout.”

Damn it. Another night, another elvish session. I enjoy the lessons. I just wish I was any good at it. I stumble through each one feeling like I’ll remember maybe half of it later. Counter Spell has seemed impressed, but Mina is picking it up so much better. It does make sense. She is a lot smarter than me. She’s going to college. I don’t even have a day job to hold down. I really should get ahold of Linda and at least apologize.

Valerie keeps trying to call me. I know if I keep not answering, she’s just going to show up. At least if she does tomorrow I’m going to make sure she doesn’t catch me still asleep on the couch in my Silver Girl Uniform.

Of course, it helps that tonight Mina and Counter Spell actually have plans.

“Crap. It’s already eight. I know it doesn’t start until nine, but just in case there’s traffic or something . . .” Mina sighs, standing. “We really should head out. Sure you won’t reconsider, Aurora? You already blew off your night patrol for some sleep. Blow off sleep to come and hang out with us.”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. The three of us. Out on the town. Painting it maroon.” Counter Spell grins, fluffing her blonde hair. She is entirely too cute. It isn’t fun that super heroines all have to be so pretty. Then again, I don’t think I could date a normal. I’d be freaking out all the time that she’d be carted off to get revenge. It still could have happened with Rebecca, but she knew how to handle her own. “And don’t say threes a crowd.”

I raise an eyebrow and stretch. Feels so weird wearing a black t-shirt and matching jeans, but they look good and they were cheap. Mostly they’re just not my uniform. “Three’s a crowd.”

Mina laughs. “You really asked for that, Counter. Oh well. If she doesn’t want to come, she doesn’t have to. At least she’s not insisting on a solo patrol.”

The thought occurred to me. It might be nice. I’ve never really done a lot of solo patrolling. Back in California we had Hope’s warning systems and never went out solo for the chance that we might run into the Syndicate or something worse and the rest of the team might never know. Midas City has it’s own share of troubles for the over eager solo act.

Deck Mistress taught me that.

Ah Monique. Mourning Frost. Another woman who isn’t getting her calls returned. I wish I could call Sylvia. She’s in Europe. I want to let her get through the night without waking up because of her phone.

“Nah. I’m not feeling that stupid. You two go out . . . have fun . . . I really could use the sleep.” My smile is a little too forced. I’ve been taking what Doctor Lys said to heart. I’m a terrible liar. I need to change it up a little. Maybe just sending out different tells will be enough for now, like giggling. Giggling is odd, but it’s not something I usually do when I lie.

Continuing my job of being the guardian of Mina’s sleep feels silly. No one has come peeking around since Lys. It makes me feel good to be ready, but I’m really not carrying my own weight. Maybe I should give the badged supers program another look.

Maybe Rebecca knows someone that’s hiring in Midas. She still owes me. A lot.

Counter Spell raises an eyebrow, towering over me as she stands. God damn it. I hate being so short. “You know if you go back on your word, and patrol anyway I’m going to be pissed. Right?”

“Yes, ‘mommy’. I’ll be good! I wont even ravage the fridge while you’re gone . . . I’ll be in bed by ten . . . I’ll even brush my teeth, and do the dishes!” I scowl, crossing my arms over my chest. “Then I’ll invite over a bunch of girls and have a drunken orgy all over Mina’s bed.”

“Hey hey hey! Hey! That’s just not fair. Use the couch.” Mina grins, giggling a little as she lifts up her purse. “And I expect you in bed by nine thirty. Sharp. Do my homework, and . . . Something else . . .”

Counter Spell reaches down and ruffles my hair while Mina struggles to find ideas. To think, they didn’t know each other a few months ago! Now they team up against me on a regular basis. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m not touring with Sylvia. Nikki would get a few good words in, not even counting the rest of the band. Damn.

Mina shrugs, and twirls her car keys around on her finger. “I can’t think of anything else good. Try to have a nice lazy night for a change, okay ’Rora? Please? You deserve it. Just watch some TV. Pass out early. Try not to worry about Sylvia.”

“Bah, now she’s going to be thinking about her all night. You know not to use the ‘S’ word before leaving the little one alone for the evening. The neighbors are going to call complaining she keeps them up late with mental soliloquies.” Counter Spell is amazing to have around. Just not when she’s on a roll. “But your cousin is right. Sleep soon as you can. Try to just be Aurora for a night. Sylvie will be back in a few months. You need to be well rested, since you won’t be getting out of bed for a week.”

I sigh and fall back into the couch. “A week? Try a month. Sylvie is insatiable.”

“Wah! Thinking about my cousins fucking for a month. Gaaaaah.” Mina covers her ears, making a quick series of loud “La”s to accentuate her point. “Leaving before you can start giving details! Love you, Aurora! Try not to wait up!”

Instead of trying to get in the last word, I just wave as they head out. I wouldn’t be okay staying behind if it was anyone besides Counter Spell. She has something ready for every situation. Before anyone could do a single thing to Mina they’d be bound and mentally gagged. I couldn’t have gotten a better partner.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind them I curl up on the couch and start flicking through the channels. I stop at the sound of Sylvia’s voice. A music video. Sweat.

Even if she made that video under Nina Corvi’s control, it’s sexy and it’s her. I sigh, and settle in to watch. Taking a night off might not be so bad after all.

“Aurora!”

Mom! Sarah! She’s right in front of me, right on the other side of something that looks like glass. I turn my hands to metal and pound them against the enclosure, but my hand vibrates more than the glass buckles. Not a scratch. No reaction. Nothing.

I open my mouth to speak and nothing comes. My voice just isn’t there. I try pounding harder, but the pain down my arms is enough to send me falling to my knees.

“Aurora . . . Aurora!”

The glass starts moving away, taking Sarah with it. I try to run after her, but my feet are magnetized to the ground. I pull as hard as I can, but my feet won’t break free. My metal won’t pull back in. I struggle, tug, twist, but nothing works. My mouth moves, but only air escapes. No sound. I want to scream. I want her to know I saw her, that I’m coming to save her!

Only it just . . . isn’t working. At all.

Mist, dark purple mist, starts encroaching. All around me. I can’t see past it. It’s closing in, closer, faster, and all I can do is try to scream. All of the struggling is making my legs burn. I know if I keep it up I’ll fall to my knees. I won’t be able to struggle any more. My whole body will be stuck down, trapped, helpless. Magnetic bondage . . . I’ve never thought about it before, but it’s terrifying.

Arms wrap around me from behind. A pair of warm, full breasts press into the back of my head. “Relax, Aurora. It’s time to take your medicine. You’ll see your mommy soon . . . after we’re done with you.” Valerie. That’s why there’s mist! It’s not Sylvia, but it’s the same shade of purple. Sweet violet mist wrapping around me, holding me. The burning melts away as it seeps into my legs, but my knees still buckle. I melt back against her, not even able to moan with how good it feels to lose myself in her presence.

In her heat, her warmth, her . . . I want to whimper out her name, to whimper out ‘mommy’ or something more, but still I just end up gasping for air. My throat doesn’t feel hurt, my mouth can move . . .

“Shh . . . Take your medicine. You can’t really fight it, not really . . .” Needles. Sharp, long needles in both of her hands. Syringes. They dive into my arms, and a bright green liquid burns its way through my veins. It feels so hard to move. So hard to think. Everything feels green, weak, distant . . . “Mmm, that feels better, doesn’t it? That’s why you can’t speak. You aren’t trying to say the right words. Here . . . have some more.”

Another two syringes press this time into my breasts. It should hurt, it should burn, it should sting, but it just feels good. Warm. Valerie always wraps her syringes with mist. It’s hard to even tell they’re there. She could use so many of them, and if I couldn’t see I’d never know.

More green. The green feels so filling, so heavy, so . . . tingly. It’s hard to do anything past it. Impossible to think past it. Too much green. So much green, so much . . .

“You’ll get to see your mommy as soon as you obey . . . just say you’ll obey . . .”

A doorbell sounds, as she presses another needle into my arm, and then another. Goddess it feels so good. Such thick, heavy green. So bright. My eyes, they’re glowing with it. I don’t know how I can see it, but I can. Glowing green eyes. Pulsing green. Heavy. Deep. Lost green.

Everything, green.

Another doorbell. It feels like it’s comming from the inside of my mind.

A loud, loud knock.

“Answer it, already, sweetie. Say it.”

I take a deep breath and scream as loud as I can. “I’ll obey!”

Pleasure overwhelms me as that purple mist fills me, wrapping me up, tugging me down to my knees, and slamming me hard into the floor.

My head hurts. This is a good thing, because it means I didn’t dent the floor when I rolled off of the couch. Fuck. Another doorbell. Stupid nightmares. Stupid soaking my panties from a nightmare.

Freud would have a field day with my whole family. That dream would barely scratch the surface.

I scramble to the door, only falling once from tripping over my own feet. They aren’t metal, but I’ve never been good at waking up in the middle of a dream. At least my metal started learning that protecting me also means protecting my interests. A little late, but better late than never!

Another doorbell. Ow my head hurts. “I’m coming, I’m coming, fuck!”

I pull open the door, and blink. I don’t recognize the woman on the other side of the door at all. Her skin is white as my uniform. Her hair is black, a solid raven black that doesn’t shine with any colors at all. She’s dressed in a short gray, white, and black plaid skirt, a black t-shirt with a skull over her chest, and pair of scuffed black flats. Something about her seems vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it.

“Usually women aren’t screaming that at me before we’ve even met.” She smirks, and it doesn’t seem like an amused smirk at all. Just a cold, biting, precise smirk. She doesn’t feel cold, so much as . . . not warm.

This is definitely a fun way to meet someone. My head is still pounding a little, and now that the adrenalin powered rush to the door is over I feel more exhausted than when I fell asleep. I’m not even going to acknowledge that dream happened until I can get some alone time. I might want to return some of Valerie’s calls. We haven’t really talked a lot since Doctor Lys. I can’t imagine why not.

I cough, and stare to the side of the door. The girl in the doorway can’t be older than nineteen. Not being much older than that myself I really shouldn’t judge, but something about how she looks young feels important. I can’t place it. She’s not a relative so . . .

I’m running out of time to think of something clever to say. The best moment already passed, but she’s a stranger standing in Mina’s doorway. Oh. Right. She might be one of Mina’s classmates. “Oh. Uhm, are you here to see Mina? She’s out tonight. Sorry.”

The woman shakes her head, and rolls her eyes. Ouch. I can’t remember the last time I felt so incredibly judged so quickly. Wait, make that accurately judged. Counter Spell isn’t really much of a social butterfly. I know she isn’t glued to my hip, but she’s not much more social than I am. Mina beats us both on that, and most people would probably call her a shut in without exaggeration.

There really isn’t any way to salvage this. It’s probably pretty obvious I was asleep and that being awake has not helped my cognitive functions much. Cognitive functions? I’m starting to think like Mina talks when she’s trying to guilt me into getting professional help or letting her head shrink me more. It’s not like I don’t let her help me, but I’m not really in the mood to be torn open as much as she wants to. She knows more about me than I wish she did as it is. I’m not really inclined to make that any worse.

Maybe she wouldn’t be suggesting things like that if I could learn to fall asleep in a bed and not on a couch.

“Aurora LaSilvas. Right?” I nod. Her voice is kinda pretty in a bratty-jailbait sort of way. I feel entirely too young to use the word jailbait about someone else. Something about her just seems . . . dirty in a very naughty way. That probably means I should stop staring at her tits. Too late to not start now. “Thought so. Hair is a bit of a giveaway. You the new Silver Girl everyone’s talking about?”

“Yeah. Sort of filling in until I can find my mom. I know she’s been missing awhile, but I’m sure we’ll find her in no time.” I wonder how long I’ll be able to lie about that with a straight face. No one has been able to find anything. I’m not stumbling into any leads. None of mom’s old friends have gotten more active or quiet. It’s been infuriating. “Looking to talk to Silver Girl? She’s sort of taking the night off. Any chance we could talk about this tomorrow? Unless its urgent . . .”

Counter Spell would still be pissed, but if I tried to turn the request down I don’t see how she could be that mad. Theoretically. I can’t really refuse a cry for help.

The girl shrugs. “Not the sort of thing that can wait. It’s a little private though. Any chance we can talk inside?” Her voice sounds almost bored. Maybe disinterested? I can’t think all that good right after I wake up.

Still, it seems rude not to give her a chance to explain herself. “Uhm . . . sure. Come on in.” She stares at me, and then rolls her eyes. “Oh! Sorry.” I step out of the middle of the doorway and motion inside. I am on a roll tonight! “I’m sort of half awake . . . I think I might grab some soda. You want any?”

She shakes her head and looks around slowly. My nose itches a little, and while I don’t believe that means she’s thinking about kissing me. I should probably stop staring at her ass anyway. She could be sixteen.

All the same, I leave her in the living room for a moment while I grab a can from the fridge. Caffeine will probably keep me up all night, defeating the purpose of staying in . . . but I’d rather hear out what the girl has to say without falling asleep again. Last thing I knew I was watching Sylvia dance, listening to her sing . . . Mmm.

Sylvia is the perfect Lullaby.

Fuck! The sound of the can opening feels a thousand times louder than it is. I was falling asleep again. Fuck. That’s the last thing I need. I down half of the can before making my way back into the living room.

The girl – young woman—is sitting on the couch right where I was before I fell off. I sit on one of the sides and take another long slow sip. Huh. The coffee table looks a little dusty. Might need to see if we have one of those feathery things somewhere. “So uhm. Oh. Crap. Your name. Right. I said I was barely awake already, right? Because it’s true. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage.”

“Good.” The girl grins, and wiggles into the couch. Her skin really is just so . . . smooth? It makes me really want to see under that top of hers. I force myself to look away. That dream did bad things to me. I’m just missing Sylvia. That’s all.

Wait. Missing Sylvia as the reason for dreaming of my mother drugging me into melty mewly bliss is probably not a good excuse hide behind.

Wait. Did that girl just say ‘good’?

My cheek feels itchy. When I go to scratch it something grainy sticks to my fingertips. It’s like gray sand, only when I rub it between my fingers it sort of just goes away. The air actually looks a little gritty . . . dusty.

Dust.

“There’s a familiar look. You get the same dumbfounded expression as your mother. ‘Oh no, something dreadfully obvious to anyone paying attention is happening to me! There’s no way out, but do I even want a way out? Oh, I’m so conflicted, so aroused, so ineffectual!’ Sound about right?” It has to be her. She grins, a cruel wicked little grin as she stretches her arms up over her head, arching out her back. “I think I got it to a ‘t’. Nice piece of silvery ass. Nice tongue. Little slow on the uptake.”

I can feel every blink. My eyelashes don’t really want to come apart, sticky, fuzzy. How did the room get so messy so quick . . . .?

Fuck. Right. Dust. She’s Dust. Mom’s Dust. The Dust that mom met in Chronos. The Dust that runs the most successful low key drug ring – and the first that as far as I know has run for over ten years without any deaths associated with it. No overdoses. No murders to keep people quiet. All things considered she’s less deadly than any other organized crime I can think of.

Of course people using a harmless drug wouldn’t attract attention. Using it on others . . . is kinda the whole point. Makes people nice and agreeable. Almost no one would think of using the stuff themselves.

Except for the one time I went looking for a Dust dealer.

“Someone looks a little dirty already. I think you have a mind just as dirty as your mommy.” She hoods her eyes and leans closer to me. Why am I still on the couch? I should be standing up. Instead I’m rubbing at my arms, scratching. Squirming. It feels really familiar. Yummy. Itchy. Itchy behind my eyes. Tingly. “Maybe dirtier. Are you a naughty little chrome headed slut?”

“Nnn . . . ’course not . . . ’m not a slut, just . . . really sleepy.” Shit, that was a miserable answer. Really just . . . not really all that good. I’m not a slut. I’ve only ever done it with like . . . Sylvie, Rebecca, Nikki . . . Some others, but like, I wasn’t really choosing that, so like, it doesn’t count . . . right?

Dust rolls her eyes, grinning a little more. When did I end up laying back against the arm of the couch? I musta shifted to scratch, rub, itch . . . Mmm. It feels good to scratch, and everything, everywhere, feels so itchy. Melty itchy.

I try to shake my head to really drive my point home, but I lose track of how many times I’ve shaken it. I have to try a few times, just to make sure I’m not just looking off to one side a little. Everything feels all slicky runny fuzzy. Mmm it would be entirely too easy to fall back asleep.

But falling asleep with Dust here, looking at me like I’m some kind of cupcake doesn’t sound smart. Nah, probably not a cupcake . . . probably muffin. Mmm muffin.

“Yeah. Just like your mom. Another chrome cunt slut. Except you’re all peach-flavored. And a naughty little thief. Didn’t mommy ever teach you not to take things that don’t belong to you?” My top . . . her hands are pulling it up over my chest. Was just sitting around alone at home, wasn’t wearing a bra. She’s staring right at my breasts. My cheeks are on fire. “Silver nips, peach tits. What matters to me, is do they do this?”

She grabs my nipples, one in each of her hands, and twists hard, really fucking hard. I scream, arching my whole body up as my nipples take entirely too long to turn to metal. It stings, in such a hot, good, fuzzy way. Everything feels so fuzzy, and having her hands on my nips makes them feel even fuzzier and dustier.

Everything around us is covered in Dust. Hard to notice it when she’s so fucking hot, and twisting my nipples like this, but its true. She tugs, harder and harder until all of my breasts gradually gain that same metal finish. My nipples haven’t felt so hard in so long.

“Perfect. Just like your other mother. Never really got how that worked. She was one hot gold slut, your mom. Too bad what happened. That’s fine though. The two of us can fuck enough to make up for it, can’t we silver nips?”

“Nnnn . . . bu-aaaaaah!”

Her leg presses up hard between mine. When did I end up on my back, with her leaning over me? Her fingers tug and twist harder and harder at my chest. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It just tingles. My eyes keep fluttering, but its harder to actually get them to open up. The dust is just so thick.

Dust tisks, and grinds a little harder, a little tighter. I mewl, and clench around her leg. I can barely move, so it isn’t much, but I try. I just feel so . . . limp, tingly, sleepy . . . Mmm. “Wasn’t talking to you, Aurora. Was talking to your nipples. Not quite as silvery now. A little gold in there too. Makes sense, I guess. You seem a little too thinky. Here. Lets dirty that head of yours up. Slick up that drippy metal snatch.”

“Mmm it’s not metal ye-oooooOOoooh!” Her knee drives harder between my legs, grinding, rubbing . . . and it feels a lot more metal now. All metally . . . slicky . . . She leans over me, rubbing her still clothed breasts against mine before kissing slowly up along my neck . . . each little kiss all warm melty fuzzy yummy . . . and then blowing right in.

Tingly warm . . . yummy gritty . . . dirty . . .

It’s like a dream . . . don’t know how I ended up naked, much less on the floor, but Dust is on my back. I can feel her straddling my waist, slick, grinding her body down against me, grinding my body down into the floor. The carpet feels so warm and slick under me. Her fingers are in my hair, pulling it, pulling my head back. Her fingers are digging into my metal ass, kneading, swatting . . . feeling inside of me . . . fucking me . . .

She says something, loose distant words . . .

On my back. She’s above me. I can see she’s still wearing her skirt, but I can feel she isn’t wearing her panties. Her shirt is tugged up over her tits, and the bounce as she grinds down against me, tugging at my nipples as she grinds her sex down against me. Using my nipples, my breasts like . . . like handles, like . . . Like I’m some kind of ride.

I’ve never felt so slick. Only loose images of movement, phantom sensations of her fingers grinding, filling, tugging me connect one moment to the next.

Ass in the air. Face ground into the carpet. She’s grinding her pussy into my metal ass, fingers filling me, pumping, thrusting. The carpet my face is being ground into is so dusty, so dirty so . . .

Moans. Whimpers. Some of them are mine, some . . . they must be hers . . . but they’re hard to hold on to.

Her lips on mine, only that’s not her tongue against mine. Muffled moans. Her lips grind me down into the carpet, pounding my head down again and again. It doesn’t hurt, it just feels hotter. Her fingers are still in my hair, holding my mouth against her as my tongue moves. I’m making it spark, I can feel it, but I don’t remember doing it.

My whole body is itching, tingling, melting with that hot perfect dust. I can feel it melting and tingling inside of me as my tongue flicks quicker, her yummy sounds louder, body moving rougher. Shuddering.

My mouth feels so dry. Full of melty, yummy, sexy dust . . . her Dust . . . Dust’s Dust, from her pussy, to my tongue . . .

Thud, thud thud, my head against the floor, her screams . . .

Mine are there too, but they feel further away.

“Not getting away from me that easily, Aurora. You need to take your medicine.”

I’m laying in bed . . . in my bed, in my room, the room Sylvia and I used to share. Valerie is straddling me. My metal feels so heavy. I can’t change back, and it’s too heavy to move in. Both of her hands are holding syringes. The tips of those long scary needles rub my nipples, making them turn back to flesh.

She traces little spirals out from my nipples, making the metal slowly reveal flesh across my breasts. I’m topless – still wearing pajama pants but nothing higher than the waist. No, that’s not right. There’s a leather collar around my neck. It’s locked in place.

“N-no . . . mommy . . .”

“Mommy . . .? So that’s what you want to call me now? Sis isn’t kinky enough? Works for me, I guess . . .” Strands of silver spread out in her hair, face changing, body shifting . . . until its Sylvia over me. Sylvia. But it was Valerie, it . . . “It’s been too long since you’ve had your medicine. You’re thinking too much. I should never have gone on tour and left you to think for yourself for so long. We both know you aren’t very good at it.”

“Not very good . . . what’s going on . . , ?” This has happened before. It’s happened . . . a lot. Pinning me down, taking off my top . . . needles tracing my metal skin, almost but not cutting me . . . pressing in . . . filling me with hot needy obedient slickburninghotsizzling-

Sylvia sighs. “You’re thinking too much. Probably were off having dreams that you were your own person or something. Was it the Silver Girl dream again? Or the one where you run away to California? Your place . . . is here . . . with me. You don’t belong with anyone else. Anywhere else. Just . . .” The needles press a little harder, and little bubbles of red peak out past my skin. I breathe in with a sharp hiss, savoring the pain as the needles press into that red, plungers slowly going down on those syringes. “With me.”

“W-with . . . you . . .”

“Mmm-hmm . . . Good girl . . .” Her eyes sparkle, silver lights and swirling must behind those pretty eyes. Not just silver, there’s purple too. They’re the same, just different aspects. Her power, not silver and purple, but silver-purple, so yummy, sizzling, heat. She’s pumping pure heat into me. I can feel it filling my breasts, tingling between my legs . . .

Something in the collar pinches me too, another needle, right into the back of my neck. More of that sweet melty drug shoots right up into my brain. My brain feels slick with it, slick like my thighs, sticky like my thighs, sticky-slick. . .

Sylvia holds out the needles, and someone takes them away. I can’t see who. There isn’t anyone else here, but I can hear them, somewhere far away, being dropped into a bin. I can see my eyes fluttering, my hips rising up for more contact with Sylvia under her short skirt. She’s warm, damp, her panties pressing against me. It feels good. Right. I made her wet. I made her hot. Hot for me.

“Must be so exhausting, all of those fantasies, thinking you’re a real person. Not just a doll. Not just a toy. Such a good little dawnling. My dawnling. I think I like it better when you call me sister, than mommy. That seems less . . . cliché.”

Dawnling . . . one of those golem-robots, Doctor Lys . . .

This is wrong, wrong . . . That wasn’t Sylvia. This can’t be real, this can’t . . . it has to be a dream, but I can’t wake up. I can’t break free. The drugs pumping through me are making me slicker and slicker, warm, hot, slick, drippy, moany. All I want to do is what she tells me, and she isn’t telling me to wake up.

“Letting a toy dream . . . A silly experiment. Making a toy cum. Fun.” She reaches behind her, and pulls out another needle. This one has a Draupnir Inc logo on it, and the liquid filling it is silver, sparkly, glittery . . . “Making her cum out everything besides the way you look, the way you feel . . . making her think she could flutter her eyes, run off, be her own person . . . then fucking it out of her?” The needle tip presses to my forehead. She slowly draws a star, with the first point as the top. Once its done, the metal inside melts away, and she presses the tip right into the center of that star until it just barely bleeds.

It feels so good. Hot. Thoughtless. I’d do anything for her. Obey anything for her. Full of drugs. A robot. A slave. Hers. Even bleeding for her feels good. I’d die for her, even if it just made her smile . . .

Thinking that makes me feel so slick.

“Priceless.”

The needle thrusts into that red center point, so deep into my mind, into my soul, liquid silver bubbling, tingling, pulsing, sparkling . . .

Slicking over everything else, and burning it away.

“You are a heavy sleeper. Heavier than your mom.” Dust is sitting on my couch, looking down at me. Dust is everywhere – her Dust that is – little piles, mounds, the carpet filled with it, couch covered with it . . . everything is so dusty, except for her. Her legs are crossed at the ankle, and resting on my breasts. “Nicer tits than either of them. Real ‘A Plus’ rack. We should party sometime. I’m sure you’ve got some sexy friends I’d love to meet.”

Fuck. My dreams are only getting worse. I blame her dust. Last time I had dust I had a dream I was swimming in a sea of it. Then again, that was pretty tame.

I want an excuse that doesn’t point to me being fucked up.

“Thanks, I think . . .? My head feels . . . full . . .” I blink a little, rolling it side to side. It really does feel full. I can feel little grains shifting as I move.

Her foot presses to the side of my head, keeping it still. “Don’t let it spill out of your ears. Leave that for when I’m gone. Something to . . . remember me by.” I don’t need to look to her face to know she’s grinning. Fuck. My body feels so sore and raw. How did she make me sore when I was metal for all of that? She’s . . . amazing.

“Okay . . . Uhm . . . That bit, about taking what doesn’t belong to me . . . I . . .”

“Forget it. We’re even now. Leave my girls alone, I’ll leave you alone. The same deal I gave your mom. Unless . . .” She rubs her foot along my cheek. She’s still wearing her shoes. I’m just an ottoman with tits to her. That should not turn me on. “You want to hang out sometime, like I said. We’ll have a real blast. Lots, and lots of fun. Me, and those metal tits of yours. Nice ass, too.”

The thought appeals entirely too much. It makes me tingle in place that dream made me tingle. “Would I remember much of partying with you . . . or be thinking much?”

“Now, would that really be your choice, Aurora?” She smirks down at me, and our eyes meet in a moment of perfect understanding. I moan, and softly shake my head. “Smarter than your mom then, or just more honest. I think honest. You like being a dirty little slut, don’t you?”

“Y-yes . . . and it’s more fun not to have a choice . . .” My cheeks are burning. I can’t hide that with my metal. It’s just a different shade. The dampness between my legs gets a little slicker.

I get a lot slicker when she laughs. Fuck she has such a hot laugh. Everything about her is hot. I just got fucked by one of my mom’s old fuck buddies. This feels a lot hotter than it has any right to. It also makes me feel a little younger than I normally do. Dust has to be twice my age at least, but she looks so young. I might need to ask her why sometime.

Dust laughs a little more, nudging my breasts with her foot to watch them jiggle. “Right. Very right. Really am sorry about your mom. Always liked her. A little too young for her own good, too righteous, but a nice piece of ass. Cute. You have a lot in common.” She pauses, and judges my breasts again. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. Don’t try to find me to ask me for tips. Just know there’s another woman out there hoping she’s found. Preferably sooner than later. But don’t tell her I said that.”

“But how can I find you if I want to party with you . . .?” Why the hell did I ask that? It’s already so obvious I’m into her. Partying with her, one of mom’s old . . . flames? I don’t know how to think of her. Would that be disloyal to mom?Creepy? Weird? Hotter for it?

“You know how to find Dust if you want it. But no more freebees, unless I’m getting to ride the pretty metal pony.” She grins, and pulls her feet away, smoothing out her skirt before standing. “Do that again, or come after my organization, and I’ll take it personally. You don’t want that. Otherwise, we can be playmates. There’s a show coming to town in a couple of weeks. I could get you in.”

“On my knees, or on a leash?”

Dust snorts, and brushes herself off. Another cloud of her dust falls down onto my face, and I moan as it tingles. Mmm. Yummy. “I don’t do leashes. Maybe your knees. And get some black lipstick. Keep your nails trimmed. I don’t like getting clawed.”

I think Dust is actually offering to take me out on the Dust equivalent of a date. I almost believe she’d actually let me think again afterward. Maybe. She did this time, but . . . Mmmm so much dust everywhere.

It might be nice. We could talk about my mom, she could tell me all of those stories I’m not supposed to know . . . but I get the feeling that I’d end up knowing more about Sarah than any daughter is supposed to. I already know entirely too much about what it’s like to have sex with Valerie. Still . . .

“Think about it. Or don’t and do it anyway. Just knew you were in the neighborhood. Thought I’d say ‘hi.’ Would have been sooner, but I had some shit to deal with. Take care of that bod of yours. I’m going to take off. When you hear the door close, you can tip your head to the side. It’ll feel amazing. Bye, little Aurora. I think that I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Dust steps out of view, and each footstep I can feel on the floor teases me. Why am I doing what she says? Why am I obeying Dust? She doesn’t have that kind of power over me. Not really. I don’t think that’s it.

I like being controlled. I want to be controlled. Dust understands that, even if she’s not doing it for my sake.

The door clicks shut, and I tip my head to the side and moan. Dust starts to trickle out of my ear, flowing grain at a time a t first, then more, and more, until its flooding out of my head like a grainy river. So so much dust, just pouring out, flowing out, dirty, messy . . .

It feels so good, like my brain was filled with the stuff, fucked full of the stuff. Little memories, flashes, of her body over me, of her hands on me, the feel of her touch, the sound of her moans, stream back into reality as it flows. So, so much . . . a little dune of dust forming under my ear. I moan, stroking along my own body as that dust trickles. My whole body is so sore, humming from pleasure, pain, and the waterfall of gray dust falling out of my head.

So much, it doesn’t look like there should be enough room in my head for so much!

I moan, rubbing along my thighs, teasing my breasts, kneading. Dust likes my body. She really tested how rough she could be, how firm she could be . . . and I loved every minute of it. I want more. We’re so going to that party together.

I don’t even care if she keeps me, as long as she makes me hurt like this again and again.

So much Dust . . . just let it flow, till the pile is bigger than my head. I turn over, letting it flow from my other ear. Everything feels so gray, so tingly, so fuzzy, so . . .

Mmmm . . . dirty.

Rebecca Draupnir is waiting for me when I get to her office. She’s wearing a black jacket, a matching skirt, and a dark red silk blouse that makes my fingers want to reach out and feel her chest as much for her full breasts as her clothing. Her legs are up on her desk, crossed at the ankles. She has a lopsided grin on her face.

It’s the kind of grin that makes a girl like me feel weak.

I adjust my glasses and cough before trying to speak, holding a clipboard tightly against my chest. “Y-you wanted to see me, Miss Draupnir . . .? I got the progress report in on time! All of the numbers are accurate. We’re working hard as we can to speed up—”

“I didn’t want to talk about the progress report, Miss Whitner. Mmm . . . Miss LaSilvas. Come closer.” Her voice is so commanding. So . . . powerful. I shyly take a step closer, looking down at the clipboard. It’s blank. I just wanted to bring something with me to focus on. I wanted something to . . . hide behind. “No. Closer. Much, much closer. And take off your glasses. I want to get a better look at you.”

She’s such a womanizer. Her eyes aren’t looking at my face at all, but I walk right up to her desk and lay the clipboard down. With nothing to protect my chest from her leering gaze she stares so brazenly at my white blouse as I pull off my glasses, and rest them beside the clipboard.

There’d be no way to get closer to her without being on her desk, or in her lap. It’s not that she isn’t sexy. She’s to die for. She’s just my boss. She’s my boss, infamous for fucking her employees.

Do I really just want to be another conquest of the great Rebecca Draupnir?

“You’re very pretty, Miss Whitner. Too pretty to just be filing reports for me. Unbutton the top button of your blouse.” My eyes open wider. She’s so brazen. She’s just demanding that as though it were somehow part of being a productive employee, as though my breasts are just a company asset. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t think of anything to say. Sexual harassment is a nice way of putting it, but fuck if I’m not turned on. “I meant now, Miss Whitner.”

“O-of course Miss Draupnir!” The first button is opened before I can even realize I’ve moved my hands. I feel so exposed even with so much still hidden.

Her grin grows. Her eyes hood. “Now the second. And the third. On second thought . . . Stay right there. Close your eyes. Don’t move. No matter what. Don’t move. If you move, I’ll fire you, and you’ll never work in this industry again. My lawyers are too good. Nothing you could say will stick. So just be a good little girl, and do what you’re told.”

Truth be told, I’ve dreamed of this. Wanted this. The way her eyes look past my clothes, the way her voice slithers into my brain . . . the way it makes me clench. Drip.

I close my eyes, and shudder a little every time I hear Rebecca’s shoes click on the floor. Click, click, click . . . Her silk bound breasts rub into my back, as her hands one by one unbutton my top. Each button comes open so agonizingly slow, so cruelly. Torture. After each is freed her fingers tease just under where it had held my top sealed, stroking, caressing, adding just enough pressure to feel, to make me yearn for more before moving on to the next button.

Gooseflesh rises all over my body. My panties are ruined. It’s so hard to not rub back against her, open my eyes, or resist sounds louder than a mewl. She’s more than just my boss. She’s using me like a toy.

When the last button opens, she pulls off my blouse without a word. The cool air makes my nipples stiffen in my white lacy bra. I mewl, and try to press back against her, only to feel her pull back to open the hooks of my bra. She pulls it away from me, dropping it over my feet. Her hands explore my back, caressing, stroking, and squeezing as they make their way down to the waistband of my skirt.

“Miss Dr—”

“Shhh.” Her voice comes quick, harsh, and raw. I’m too taken back to reply as she pulls my skirt down, letting it fall along my legs to join my panties. Her fingers cup my white lace panties, squeezing, stroking with just the tips of her fingers. “Or I’ll make you crawl your way back to your desk, wearing only these. So slick. Damp. Dirty. You’re such a dirty girl. Such a naughty girl. You’re going to spend the rest of your day under my desk, under my skirt. Understood, Aurora?”

“Y-ye—”

“Shh.” Again, harsh, firm. Her fingers press against my slit, pressing my panties harder into my slick flesh. “Just nod.” I nod. “Good girl. If you make me cum, and I mean a good one . . . I’ll take you home. No clothes allowed in my home. No standing either. You’ll need to crawl everywhere. Silent. My little fuckpet. But you want that, don’t you Aurora?”

I nod, moaning, clenching tight as I can around her hand. She pulls her hand back and laughs, shoving me over her desk before stepping around and sitting back in her chair.

I fall to my knees, panting as I crawl to her feet. No panties. I flutter my eyes shut again, and get to work. No part of me but my mouth even matters. I’m just a tongue and lips right now. Maybe fingers. I’m here to make her cum. Then, I’m here to go home with her, and make her cum again. And again. And again. Maybe then she’ll reward me, maybe then she’ll keep me.

Just her little dawnpet . . . legs around my head, holding me right where I belong . . .

Her hips buck just once, and I moan. This, is perfect. This, is all I could ever want.

“Aurora! Aurora! Wake up!” Hands on my shoulder are shaking me. I groan, trying to open up my eyes. No one just wants to let me sleep tonight. Wasn’t the whole point of me staying in to get some sleep . . .?

“Nnnn! I’m awake! I’m awake!” Also, apparently thinking of Dust, and Chronos, makes me have my own “The Lady” fantasies with Rebecca instead of Jesse Colloten. That is not one that I am ever telling mom. Though . . . maybe I really shouldn’t get Rebecca to get me a job with some part of Draupnir here in Midas. Might be good to have some income but the dreams would probably be worse.

The dust is all gone. It was everywhere, coating everything, I know it was. Did I take it all . . .? Did it all just disappear? Mom told stories about waking up covered in it, with piles everywhere. Maybe Dust did something different back then. Did I just dream that . . .? I haven’t thought about Dust since forever ago. I don’t think she’s come to mind since I realized mom flushed my second baggie. Too bad all of it disappeared. A bag of dust can really take the edge off. It can end up with clothes off too, but that’s just a side effect.

Mina is kneeling beside me, eyes wide. Her voice is full of panic. I don’t know why. There isn’t any dust anywhere. Why would she be panicked? I guess Dust couldn’t lock the front door when she left. Did that freak her out that bad . . .?

Oh. No. I’m guessing it has to do with me being passed out in front of the couch, my clothes strewn everywhere but on my actual body, a wet spot under me on the carpet, my body being metal, and black lipstick staining me in random fun places.

I need a shower. With how much my body is tingling I get the wonderful feeling that any shower right now would sting in fun ways.

Counter Spell is standing over me now, too. “What the . . . I do not know English words that adequately express my confusion as to what could have happened to you.”

Mina speaks some elvish I don’t think I’ve ever heard before, and Counter Spell laughs.

“That’s pretty close. A bit vulgar. I told you not to say that much.”

“Much. I’ve never said it before. It just sounds kinda dirty. And she is covered with lipstick. Even down . . . well . . . look.” I don’t need to look to know what Mina is referring to. I don’t remember when her lips ended up between my legs but I can still feel her lipstick there.

I reach a hand down to cover myself up, and reach my other arm across my chest. They’ve both already seen everything, but I can still try to cover up.

Amusingly enough the two don’t even seem to be paying attention to me anymore. They’re just looking at each other. At least they aren’t picking on me. I wish I was better at elvish. Mina is entirely too good with it. I don’t remember Counter Spell teaching us that, but I do sleep through the ends of our sessions sometime. It was probably then. Oh well.

While they’re distracted I pull myself up to my feet, and steady myself precariously against the couch. “Nnn. Fuck. I am . . . sore. Everywhere. I met one of my mom’s old friends. Was nice. Complicated. I’m going to get a shower. Then go sleep. Do not wake me.”

“Yeah. Okay, whatever. You can tell us more later. You sound fine.” Counter doesn’t even look away from Mina. Ugh. They’re probably plotting some way to pick on me later about this.

At least that wasn’t a dream. I blush, rubbing at some of the lipstick on my nipple once I’m in the bathroom. Yeah, that was real . . . and I am definitely going to that rave with Dust. I might invite Counter Spell, but probably not. She’s not submissive like I am. It’s not a craving that permeates her dreams like it is for me. Hell, I’m even dreaming of Rebecca. I miss having someone to please. Mina doesn’t want that from me. Counter Spell and I just don’t have any chemistry.

Sylvia has Nikki for the road. Midas is full of eligible heroines.

I step into the burning hot water, and let my eyes flutter shut as it washes over me. Dust believes Sarah is going to be found, too. For some reason, that makes me feel a lot better.